


With him, life was routine; without him, life was unbearable

by xiamer



Series: Those who do not weep, do not see [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Angst, DEFINITELY not a happy ending, Gen, if you want a happy fic, its enjol-angst hours ladies gentlemen and non binary lads, it’s an “if you squint” type of deal, like maaaaajor angst, look at my other ones, theres a possibility that you can see Enjolras/Grantaire, this is just pretty sad and kind of ooc im sorry, unsatisfactory ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24891241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiamer/pseuds/xiamer
Summary: Title is from Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird”It was stupid really. The entire fight between Combeferre and Enjolras was stupid. It was spawned from a place of stress on both sides, and it was escalated quickly by both sides as well.
Relationships: Combeferre & Enjolras (Les Misérables), Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Those who do not weep, do not see [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803691
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23





	With him, life was routine; without him, life was unbearable

**Author's Note:**

> ***defo not a happy fic, if you didn’t see the tags***
> 
> if you want to read something from me, but don’t want enjol-angst, check out 
> 
> “In which Enjolras makes a Group Chat”
> 
> but if you’re staying here, welcome aboard the angst train, glad to have you

It was stupid really. The entire fight between Combeferre and Enjolras was stupid. It was spawned from a place of stress on both sides, and it was escalated quickly by both sides as well. 

Maybe Enjolras had crossed the line first, but certainly it was Combeferre who had lit the gasoline fire. That was true, but it felt so wrong to think. 

Enjolras had been the one to snap and tell Combeferre that he was being too cautious. He had told Combeferre that no positive change would happen if he continued to nag them and hold them back. It was terrible, really, but he hadn’t meant it. He felt pushed to the edge by the stress of his coursework and had been having trouble contacting his pharmacist to get a refill on his prescription. 

Enjolras hadn’t meant it, but he was sure Combeferre had. 

Combeferre had retaliated by calling him brash and too radical for his leadership position. He had said that Enjolras was reckless and cared so little for the safety of others that he couldn’t see the problems with his plans. 

The first insult that had been hurled at him had shattered his heart, and everything that followed only beat him down more. 

They continued to yell at each other until Combeferre had had enough, gave him one final glare, and stormed off. Courfeyrac had quickly followed at his heels, but not before giving Enjolras a dirty look. 

The other members of Les Amis de l’ABC awkwardly stood around for a moment before choosing their side. Unsurprisingly, everyone went to Combeferre. That was fair, he had deserved to be left. Grantaire, who has been absent at tonight’s meeting due to being out of town, would have stood with him. But Enjolras knew he didn’t deserve that sort of loyalty. 

Grantaire being out of town meant no one else would be checking on him. He stood in the backroom of the Musain and debated calling Grantaire, just to give himself an assurance that someone still cared, but Enjolras ultimately decided against it. 

He didn’t deserve the luxury of comfort right now. 

Enjolras sighed and looked around the room. The chair that Combeferre had been sitting in was knocked to the ground. Everything else, however. Everything else was as it would be after a usual meeting. The chairs were slightly askew and there were a few glasses left on the tables. 

It felt so unreal, yet real at the same time. 

The realest part was the deep ache inside him. The ache that signalled to him that he had just lost his bond with his closest friend. The person in his life that understood him the most was gone. 

Combeferre had been there throughout his childhood. The childhood that was filled with both cold distance from his parents, and horrible manipulation at the same time. Combeferre had always been there to reassure him that the best was yet to come. 

When Enjolras was officially disowned by his parents on his 18th birthday, Combeferre assured him that he would always have a home; that there would always be someone that loved him. 

Now that they were in university, they lived together, alongside Courfeyrac. They were the triumvirate, but there was always a special bond between Combeferre and himself that no one could even dream to replicate. The bond had never been shaken, not for 18 years. Even when Combeferre and Courfeyrac began to see each other, Combeferre had always been there for Enjolras. 

The unbreakable bond, the bond of platonic soulmates, the bond that seemed too good to be true, was indeed just that. 

Realistically, Enjolras had known that something, SOMETHING was going to change their dynamic eventually. He never knew what it could be, but he knew it would be something. Enjolras had dreaded the day that that “something” would occur. Somewhere in his mind, he predicted it would be his fault. 

And it was. 

He attacked Combeferre for the one thing that he needed him most for. Enjolras never acted on impulse, but he could make rash decisions. Combeferre would always be there to balance him out. 

Was. 

Was always there to balance him out. Not anymore, he was there, but not anymore. 

God what time was it?

He slipped his phone out of his pocket and clicked it on. 

21h37

Right about now, he should be amicably chatting with his friends. He should be approaching Courfeyrac about the meeting’s minutes, and then turning to Combeferre to discuss upcoming events. He should be speaking with his two best friends about what they’d be eating for dinner, and if they should rent a movie. 

Enjolras laughed, but it was completely hollow. Courfeyrac probably wouldn’t let him back into their flat. 

If he couldn’t go home, he knew no one else would let him stay at their places. So, he set about busying himself by setting chairs back, and bringing glasses back to the front. When he got to Combeferre’s overturned chair, he felt as though he weren’t allowed to touch it. So, he left it. 

Using the key that he had been gifted by the owners, Enjolras locked the backroom, then exited the Café Musain and locked the front door as well. He checked the time again. 

21h54

He had no missed calls, so he assumed that meant he wasn’t welcome at the flat that he shared with Combeferre and Courfeyrac. 

Enjolras knew it would be a stupid, stupid idea to call Courfeyrac and ask, but this entire night had been caused by his own stupidity, so he figured that he may as well try. 

With shaking hands, he pulled up the contact for Courfeyrac, and pressed the call button. 

It rang. 

And rang. 

And rang. 

And he was directed to voicemail. 

Sighing, he figured he should start in the direction of a park bench or some 24 hour store where he could occupy his time. 

Courfeyrac’s voicemail message struck him directly through the heart, and his legs started to shake as he walked. 

_ Hey! You’ve reached the voicemail box of Mathieu Courfeyrac! Chances are, if I missed your call, I’m with Monsieur Grumpy Goose— say hi Enj! _

_ —get off of me Courf _

_ Or I’m with my lovely boyfriend Ferre! Say hi Ferre— _

_ Hello.  _

_ So yeah! Leave me a message at the beep, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can! _

Enjolras rounded the corner of the street he had been walking as the voicemail message ended. He heard the beep and began-

“Hey Courf. I know you and Combeferre definitely haven’t forgiven me yet, and you probably won’t anytime soon, if ever. But I just wanted to call and see if you were alright? Yeah… now that I say it, that’s a stupid question. But anyway, call me back maybe? I may call again soon, just to check. I’m so sorry, and I just want you to be okay.”

He hung up and checked the time again. 

22h01

This was going to be a very long night. 

By this point, Enjolras had reached a dead end alley, and turned around. He debated calling any of his other friends. 

If they were his friends anymore. 

Enjolras started in the direction of the Corinth. They weren’t open for 24 hours, but they were open at least until 2 am. Whilst he walked, Enjolras called Feuilly. 

It rang. 

And rang. 

But to his surprise, Feuilly picked up. 

“What do you want Julien?”

Broken out of his shock by the use of his given name, Enjolras tentatively responded. 

“Is Combeferre okay?”

He heard a sharp laugh on the other end. 

“Sure. He’s just peachy.”

And with that, Enjolras was hung up on. 

He checked the time. 

22h09

He saw the Corinth and made a beeline towards it. Once inside, it smelled like a mix of rich wine and cheap beer. The scent that he usually detested now felt welcoming. 

Enjolras exhaled a shaky breath, and sat down at one of the tables in the corner of the bar. Pulling out his laptop, he wondered if he would be able to get any work done. 

He checked the time. 

22h11

Enjolras called Jehan this time. 

It rang. 

And rang. 

And rang. 

And he was hit with their automatic voice message. Jehan had never bothered to set it up. It had irked him at the time, but now he was thankful that he didn’t have to hear their sweet poet’s voice. 

Was that selfish?

Probably. 

The voicemail message had finished and Enjolras began. 

“Hi Jehan. I already know the answer, but I feel like I ought to just call everyone and ask. How’s Combeferre doing? I hope he’s alright. Update me if you get this? Thank you, and I’m sorry.”

Enjolras dropped his head onto the table and groaned. The last thing he wanted to do right now was work, but he knew he had to. If only to give him a way to get through to the morning. 

Working on a thesis essay was probably the wrong choice. Enjolras could hardly focus due to the combination of tonight’s events and being off his medication for weeks. He switched and decided to just work on a simple psychology paper. 

He checked the time. 

23h09

Enjolras called Joly. 

It rang. 

And rang. 

And rang. 

_ Hey you’ve reached Joly! I’m so sorry I couldn’t get to the phone right now, as I’m probably on shift, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible! _

Shaky exhale. 

“Hey Joly. I hope everything’s okay with you, Bossuet, and Musichetta. Give them my love, okay? I know I won’t get an answer, and I know I already know said answer, but how’s Combeferre? I’m so sorry for tonight.”

He checked the time. 

23h11

Make a wish, Enjolras thought bitterly. 

He turned back to his psychology paper. It felt even less appealing than before. But he had to work. That was him. He was Enjolras, the workaholic. He can’t disappoint the people in that regard. 

He checks the time. 

00h02

Enjolras calls Courfeyrac. 

It rings. 

And rings. 

And rings. 

The voicemail message hurts even more this time than it did the last. 

_ Hey! You’ve reached the voicemail box of Mathieu Courfeyrac! Chances are, if I missed your call, I’m with Monsieur Grumpy Goose— say hi Enj! _

_ —get off of me Courf _

_ Or I’m with my lovely boyfriend Ferre! Say hi Ferre— _

_ Hello.  _

_ So yeah! Leave me a message at the beep, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can! _

“Hey Courfeyrac. It's me again. I know you won’t answer, and you have good reason for that. Just checking in again. Call me back?”

Enjolras orders a water. Drinking anything else would be wrong. 

He checks the time. 

00h17

There’s no work that he would be able to focus on. He gathers his belongings and pays for the water. The bartender gives him a sympathetic look. He averts his eyes after the transaction. 

Enjolras calls Courfeyrac. 

_ Hey! You’ve reached the voicemail box of Mathieu Courfeyrac! Chances are, if I missed your call, I’m with Monsieur Grumpy Goose— say hi Enj! _

_ —get off of me Courf _

_ Or I’m with my lovely boyfriend Ferre! Say hi Ferre— _

_ Hello.  _

_ So yeah! Leave me a message at the beep, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can! _

“Hey again. Call me back? Please?”

He checks the time. 

00h24

Enjolras starts to walk. He doesn’t know where he’s going, or why he’s going there, but he goes. 

There’s a ruckus behind the Corinth. Enjolras ignores it. 

He checks the time. 

00h33

Enjolras calls Courfeyrac. 

_ Hey! You’ve reached the voicemail box of Mathieu Courfeyrac! Chances are, if I missed your call, I’m with Monsieur Grumpy Goose— say hi Enj! _

_ —get off of me Courf _

_ Or I’m with my lovely boyfriend Ferre! Say hi Ferre— _

_ Hello.  _

_ So yeah! Leave me a message at the beep, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can! _

“I don’t know if you’re listening to these, but if you are, I’m sorry and I love you both. Please. Please, call me back-“

He stops in the middle of the sentence as the footsteps from the alley outside the Corinth seem to grow nearer. He shakes it off and continues. 

“Call me back Courf. I need to know you’re okay.”

He checks the time. 

00h40

The footsteps grow louder, until suddenly someone has grabbed him. The man smells of cheap alcohol, and Enjolras knows this can only go two ways, neither of them good. 

He struggles. Enjolras would never go down without a fight. But the struggle of a grieving man is nothing compared to the knife of a drunkard. He feels the sharp impact, and feels the muscle in his abdomen tear. 

Enjolras is dropped in a nearby alley in a heap. He only has his phone. The drunkard has stolen his bag. 

He checks the time. 

00h54

Enjolras calls Combeferre. 

It rings. 

And Combeferre picks up. 

“Julien, you’ve called almost everyone but me tonight.”

Enjolras shifts so that he’s slumped against the alley wall. 

“Com-Combeferre? I’m so sorry. I swear- I swear I didn’t mean it.”

His voice is echoing around the deserted alley. It sounds pathetic, even to him. 

Combeferre speaks again, and Enjolras can hear the furrow in his brow. 

“Why call me now? Three hours later you call. You’ve called Courfeyrac 4 times, Feuilly, Jehan and Joly once. But not me. Why now?”

“Did all of them get my voicemails?”

Combeferre sighs. It’s an agitated sound. 

“Yes. They did. Will you answer my question?”

Enjolras is starting to feel numb. He laughs quietly. Not at Combeferre, but at the idea that he thought he felt numb before, but now he is truly going numb. 

Enjolras can hardly hold the phone to his ear. 

“Julien, what’s the laugh for?”

That was Courfeyrac. His voice was as clear as Combeferre’s. He must be on speakerphone. 

“Am I on speaker?”

“Yes.”

Who responded to him? Does it even matter?

“Oh- Oh- oh good. I just- just wanted to apologise. I know you may think- may think that they’re empty words, but you both know as well as any that I don’t lie- lie. And what purpose would there be for a man to lie on his deathbed?”

Someone makes another irritated sound. At this point, Enjolras can not tell who it was. 

“Julien, you’re not going to die from an argument.”

They cannot see him. They don’t know what’s happening. Enjolras hears a church bell chime once. 

The time is 1h00. 

His voice is soft, almost as if he is in confession. Almost as if he were 17 again, and forced to go to church by emotionally distant parents, who cannot believe that they raised a gay son. 

“Ferre… I’m so very sorry. I love you in a way that only I can… I didn’t mean to break our bond… I love… love you.”

The hand holding the phone has finally caught up to the rest of his body and realised that he’s dying. The phone drops to the ground, and though the call is still ongoing, Enjolras can see the numbers. 

He checks the time. 

1h03

It is 1h03 when Enjolras truly breaks their bond forever. 

**Author's Note:**

> like it ? love it ? hate it ? im just glad you read it 
> 
> sorry, i was just in a weird angsty mood, which is weird considering i updated my comedy fic like 3 hours ago
> 
> oh well, that’s just how the chilli meets the cheese mes amis
> 
> but yeah, this is my 3 am angst fest, hope you enjoyed, maybe ill make a sequel of after or of c squared during the fic ?
> 
> -el <3


End file.
